The Spirit Binds Read online

  The strength required to continue on was more than he could summon. As much as he tried, he was starting to fade more and more with each step. Part of it came from whatever Tanner still did to resist him, as if he were pushing back, trailing after him, using his shaping of wind to do so.

  And in doing so, he was forcing Tolan to slow. It would take a different kind of energy, and with it, he would have to either neutralize Tanner—something he wasn’t interested in doing—or he would have to continue to combat his shaping.

  “I think you’re stronger than they were giving you credit for.”

  “Stop,” Tolan said.

  “You won’t be able to win. You already are starting to fail. I can feel it. You’ve done well this far, but how much longer do you think you can go? How much more do you think you can do when it comes to combating them?”

  “Them now, not you?”

  “I won’t take all the credit. I will let them have it. Besides, it’s far more fun this way.”

  “We were friends.”

  “Were. And then you left. You didn’t say anything.”

  “Because they wouldn’t let me. That’s how the Selection works. They don’t give the people Selected an opportunity to say their goodbyes.”

  “And you went along with that? I thought more of you, Tolan.”

  “I went along with it because I had no choice.”

  “You went along with it because you thrilled at the idea you might be able to shape. Admit it. For all your bluster, Tolan, you want the same thing as everybody. You want power.”

  “I’ve never wanted power.”

  “No? And yet, here you are, look at you. All this power you have, and it’s not what you wanted at all, is it?”

  “It’s not,” Tolan said.

  “I don’t believe you. At least I’m willing to acknowledge the fact if the Academy wasn’t willing to teach me, another will.”

  “Who?”

  “All you have to do to find out is turn around.”

  Tolan couldn’t deny the interest he had in turning around, in finding out who Tanner had begun to serve and who was teaching him, but if he turned around, there would be a different sort of danger. He didn’t know what would happen to him, and until he did, he didn’t think he dared. More than that, he wanted to be prepared for the possibility he might need to fight. He wasn’t sure quite how.

  Another shaping built, this one just as strong as the last, and when it came, Tanner started to smile. “The endgame begins.”

  Power burst all around. As it came, Tolan tried to ignore it, focused only on hurrying along the Shapers Path. That was what he needed to do, and if for some reason he were unable to continue, what would happen to him?

  He could leave Tanner, but that would be losing the possibility of understanding what was taking place and how his supposed friend had a role in it. He didn’t want to do it.

  He dragged on strength buried within him, pulling it from somewhere. He added to it strength he could summon through the bondar, and in doing so, he continued to shape, calling forth power. It reminded him of how he’d pressed through the testing.

  What more was there to do?

  Nothing other than continue to race to the Academy.

  He didn’t even dare looking behind him, not wanting—or willing—to turn around and see if there was anything coming. He didn’t need to turn around to recognize the power flowing from the shapers behind him.

  Tanner continued to laugh, the sound of it building, irritatingly so.

  And then a shaping struck him.

  Tolan staggered forward, barely able to maintain his footing, and he lunged, trying to catch himself, adding a shaping of earth to prevent himself from falling. Another shaping struck him. This time it was earth and fire. He had the opportunity to detect the source of the shaping, nothing more, and as it struck him, he tried to stay on his feet, but the power of the combined shaping—and the tiredness within him—were enough that he could no longer stand.

  Through it all, Tanner continued to laugh.

  “Would you be quiet?” Tolan snapped.

  Tanner cackled. “I would, but this is all too entertaining. I never expected you to be the one they were after.”

  “Why are you helping them?”

  “Because they helped me. Because I have learned. Because—”

  Another shaping struck, and this time it crashed into where Tanner had been. Tolan grabbed him, trying to pull him forward, but he wasn’t quick enough. The shaping struck him, throwing him off to the side of the Shapers Path. Tolan debated jumping down for his friend but realized he couldn’t. There was too much shaping power behind him.

  Now free of Tanner, he ran. He no longer had the same resistance he’d had before. He raced forward, using the Shapers Path for speed, and he added to it a shaping of wind, giving him a boost, but even as he went, he wasn’t sure it was going to be enough.

  The city was in the distance. Amitan loomed toward him, but it was still far enough away that he wondered if he’d make it in time.

  There came another burst and he pushed back, trying to fight against the power, and found his own strength faded too much. As much as he wanted to fight, as much as he wanted to resist whatever was coming, he didn’t have enough strength to do so.

  Tolan focused only on shaping the wind, not anything else. When a shaping struck him, it sent him staggering forward and he tried to ignore it, much like he tried to ignore the pain in his back where he’d been struck. Water would heal him, but he didn’t dare take even a moment to try to use water to restore himself, not wanting to risk it.

  Another shaping built. Tolan struggled against it, feeling the power of the shaping, knowing as it grew, as that power continued to build, there wouldn’t be anything he would be able to do to block it. It would be best if he could outrun it.

  Wind started to swirl around him.

  That one troubled him more than anything else. If the wind was swirling, it was doing so because of Tanner. It had a distinct signature, the kind of swirling pattern he recognized, the kind Tanner had used when they were younger and he was trying to show off his abilities, looking to impress Tolan. Tanner had never understood that he’d never needed to try to impress Tolan. The mere fact he could shape was enough.

  Why had Tanner gone to someone else for training?

  Then again, was that what the Grand Inquisitor had expected? Had she known there might be some who would be compelled to go and learn from another source?

  It seemed almost as if she had.

  Another shaping built, and another.

  Tolan pushed, using fire and wind, trying to add a hint of water, thinking he could glide along the Shapers Path if he did, but he didn’t have the necessary control and his strength faded.

  Spirit.

  Tolan had seen how spirit would add to a shaping, and if he could use that, maybe he could give himself enough of a burst.

  Twisting spirit and wind together, he tried to use the two of them, hoping the new shaping would send him faster along the way, and if so, he might be able to reach the city.

  Would the attack end when he did? It was possible his pursuers wouldn’t abandon their chase when he reached the city. Now he had their twisted bondar, it was possible they would want that, that they would worry about him having it. Another burst, and this time Tolan went staggering, the power from the shaping striking him in the back, sending him falling forward.

  He crawled. He was tempted to drop off the Shapers Path and down to the ground below. If he did, he might be able to hide within the trees. He could buy himself some time, give himself the opportunity to regain his strength, and maybe sneak back into the city without anyone being the wiser, but he wasn’t sure if that would even work. It was possible the attackers could use earth and chase him with it, tracking him and then trapping him.

  He wasn’t going to be captured.

  Memories of the Inquisition came to him, far too painful, too fresh despite that it had been mo
nths since he’d encountered anything like it. It was torment, and he refused to experience it again.

  Summoning more strength, trying to dig someplace deep within himself, he pushed outward, a mixture of all of the elements, including spirit.

  As he did, he focused on the library. He would reach it. He’d find some way of getting inside, and when he did…

  A bolt of lightning streaked from the sky.

  Tolan could barely look up. He could feel the energy within the lightning before it reached him, could feel the way the heat began to form, the steady caress of that power as it continued to build, shooting toward him. There was significant energy trapped within it, and it was more than he could withstand.

  All he could do was brace for the impact, knowing when it came, he may or may not be ready for it, much like he may or may not be able to survive it. As that energy struck, Tolan held his hands up.

  It consumed him.

  There was warmth within the shaping, and it seemed almost as if the lightning caressed him, much like wind had caressed him. There was wind within the bolt of lightning. Earth was there, the way the lightning bolt connected to the ground, and there was water, mixed with the storm clouds that had to have originated the lightning in the first place. Spirit held them all together, sort of how water bound together the shapings for the Shapers Path.

  He felt lifted. There was no other way to describe it, but he was carried up with the lightning bolt, dragged into the air, the power of the shaping scooping him off the Shapers Path and into the sky. Tolan tried to track where he was going, trying to keep sense of what was happening, but he couldn’t. There was nothing but the strange power of the lightning, and nothing more than an emptiness around him.

  And then he was carried down.

  When the lightning cleared and his vision began to come back around, he expected to be surrounded by shapers, thinking they had found some new way of attacking him. Instead, he found no one.

  He was exhausted, almost too much to go on, and with that exhaustion, he collapsed, his vision fading to black.

  13

  When Tolan came back around, everything within him hurt. Pain radiated from deep inside him, almost as if he’d expended too much energy in the escape. As far as he could tell, he had. He’d very nearly used the last of his ability.

  He sat up, looking around. He was in a small room, resting on a narrow bed. A single lantern sat on a shelf bolted to the wall. It glowed softly, shaped light within it giving barely more than a little bit of illumination. He looked around, thinking he must’ve been captured. Maybe his belief he’d ended up at the library was nothing more than imagination. If he’d been captured, then where had they brought him?

  He attempted to shape, reaching for fire as he often did, and found his connection to that element still there. Power bloomed within him, and the lantern surged a little bit brighter. He focused on earth, pushing outward, sending a connection to the ground and through the walls. He was able to connect to that as well. There was water in a basin nearby, and with a hint of shaping, he swirled that water around, connecting even to that.

  He wasn’t cut off from his shaping, but where was he?

  He hadn’t tried to pull on spirit, and didn’t know it made much sense to try to do so. Not at this point, and not without knowing whether he was in any danger. Instead, he used a shaping of fire and water, wrapping them around his mind, inverting them to protect himself and the possibility there would be someone here who might mean him harm. He couldn’t tell whether there would be or not, and until he knew where he was and what had happened to him, he refused to be unprepared.

  Getting to his feet, he found he was dressed in his underclothes. A robe hung on a hook by the door, and Tolan threw it on. It was soft, the style unfamiliar, and he checked around, looking for his clothing, but it was gone.

  Which meant the strange bondar was gone.

  He had wanted to examine that, if only to understand it. How had they used the bondar? Was there any way to counteract it?

  He found the door, testing it. Of course, it was locked.

  It was possible he could shape his way out, and he considered pushing on earth, blasting open the door, but decided to save his energy. There might be another way to uncover what he needed. Could he use sensing? Rather than trying to rely on his shaping ability, and bondars…

  Bondars.

  Tolan grabbed for his neck, checking to see if his necklace and the stone ring were still there, and was relieved to find they were.

  Breathing out heavily, he reached for spirit and forced it into his earth shaping, combining it, intending to draw a little bit more strength from it and then send that out into the stone, using that kind of shaping to help know where he was and what might be here.

  Pushing outward, he tried to detect whether there was anything else he could uncover. There seemed to be some resistance to attempting sensing, and as much as he tried to push, there wasn’t anything he could discover.

  Tolan continued to draw on earth power, summoning more strength, pushing out. As he did, he used spirit, linking it to earth, and tried to see if there was anything he might be able to learn, and yet there didn’t seem to be.

  He withdrew his shaping. It would be better to conserve his energy, not knowing whether there was anything more here that he needed to be afraid of. What he needed to do was figure out where he was. While it might involve blasting open the door using the shaping of earth and spirit, he wasn’t sure he wanted to do that just yet.

  Instead, he hesitated.

  There had to be something he could detect, didn’t there?

  The longer he lingered, the less certain he was that he’d be able to detect anything here. He held onto the connection of the shaping, using earth and pushing outward, but as he pushed, he realized there was resistance. It was almost as if there was someone here pushing against him.

  Which meant he was captured.

  Not that he should have thought otherwise. Considering how he found himself here in the small room, what else could he have been other than a captive? He relaxed his shaping for a moment, deciding he shouldn’t focus so much on it. As he did, he changed the nature of what he was doing, holding onto the shaping wrapped around himself, keeping it swirled around his mind, ready for the possibility someone might come for him. If they did, he was prepared.

  It gave him an opportunity to think through what had occurred. He still wasn’t entirely sure what had taken place, only that whatever it was had surprised him. There had been pursuers along the path. He had fallen, nearly collapsing. When he had, he’d used a combination of the elements, combining them into one, and he’d added a hint of spirit, whether or not he had meant to do so. Lightning had come for him, drawn toward him. Whatever the attackers had done had somehow used that lightning, and Tolan had been claimed by it.

  But he’d been brought to the library. That was where he had focused his image, what he had held in his mind, and when he’d followed the pressure of the shaping, he’d been certain that was where he was going.

  Only… That hadn’t been the case.

  Releasing the shaping, Tolan stepped back, looking around. Could he be in the library? The idea seemed impossible, but then again, so did the idea he’d somehow called lightning from the sky.

  Pressure began to build, pushing upon his shaping once again. As it did, Tolan took a step back and found himself pressed up against the wall. He held onto his connection to the shapings he’d formed around his mind, protecting himself. Hopefully he was able to use it in a way that could keep his mind safe, sealed off from whoever was coming. A part of him wondered whether or not that was what he needed to do.

  The door opened.

  “Master Minden?”

  “Good. You’re awake. Time for you to come with me.”

  “What happened?”

  “Unfortunately, the Selection has gone awry.”

  “When we were in Ephra, there was an attack,” Tolan said.

 
“That is my understanding as well. I need you to come with me,” she said.

  Tolan followed her. The master librarian guided him from the small room, and he followed her without saying anything. Now in the hallway, he realized he was in the Academy, though there was nothing else about it he recognized.

  There was a sense of familiarity to it. It came from the sense of earth and water and wind and fire, all of them mingling together, giving him an awareness of this place. Every so often, the sense of a shaping built, exploding near him and with enough power that he thought he should know who was shaping, but he came across nothing. Master Minden continued to lead him away from the room where he’d awoken and down a long hallway. He paused at one point, realizing where he was.

  It was the hall of portraits. She’d brought him in a different direction than before.

  “What is it?” he asked, pausing to look briefly at the portraits.

  “While you were out, we received word some of the other Selections have been disrupted.”

  “How many of them?”

  Master Minden paused before answering. “Too many. Others have returned, but they bring word of disruption out in Terndahl.”

  “And the other students who were sent?”

  “Most were not nearly as capable as you. It’s why we need to know what you experienced, Shaper Ethar.”

  “I don’t really know what I experienced. I… We came across shapers who seemed to have been spirit shaped and they attacked us. We removed the spirit shaping on them, and when we did, we put them through the Selection.”

  “You did.”

  Tolan nodded. “We thought everything was fine. The Grand Inquisitor was going to Par to help with another Selection, but she sent me back to the Academy with the two who were Selected.”

  “And then what happened?”

  “And then I was attacked.”

  “How?” Master Minden stared at the wall of portraits for a long moment before turning her attention back to him. Something in her milky gaze lingered, almost a spark of recognition, though Tolan didn’t think there should be one within her eyes.